


Bissextile

by earlgreytea68



Series: Lucky [4]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a bonus day. You're supposed to make the most of it. You're supposed to do everything out of the ordinary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bissextile

Four years earlier, there was a Leap Day. That was how it worked, after all: every four years. On that Leap Day, four years earlier, Arthur did not wake up to Eames sprawled on his stomach next to him, snoring loudly, hair tangled everywhere, drooling a little bit. On that Leap Day, Arthur woke up alone. Arthur went to a dingy warehouse and sat at his desk and sighed a little and then took a deep breath and then started working. 

And Eames came in, much earlier than he normally did, and Eames said, “Petal! It’s Leap Day, didn’t you know?”

And Arthur said, “Of course I know it’s Leap Day, Mr. Eames.” 

And Eames said, “Do you know what you’re supposed to do on Leap Day?”

“Get through the mark’s financials?” 

“No.” Eames perched on Arthur’s desk and grinned down at Arthur. “It’s a bonus day. You’re supposed to make the most of it. You’re supposed to do everything out of the ordinary.” 

“Oh,” said Arthur mildly. “Does that mean you’re going to work diligently today and refrain from sexually harassing me?” 

And Eames had laughed, full-throated, head back, like Arthur was hilarious, and then he’d said, “For you, love, I will make the effort,” and he’d slid off the desk and winked. 

“Everything about that was sexually harassing,” Arthur had grumbled. 

And that had been their Leap Day. 

On this Leap Day, Arthur woke at dawn, and normally he would have gone for a run, but this was Leap Day. So he slid out of bed and didn’t go for a run. He peeked into Lucky’s room, where she immediately turned in his direction and stood up and reached out her arms and smiled like he was the best thing she’d ever seen and said, “Arth,” the way she did. 

He smiled at her. “Good morning,” he said, keeping his voice low for Eames’s benefit in the other room. “How are you today?” He picked her up easily and she snuggled into him, grinning. He pushed her hair, sleep-damp, out of her face, and kissed the side of her head, and said, “It’s your first Leap Day, me petite. Do you know what that means?” 

Lucky yawned widely. 

“Yeah, that was my original reaction, too. But your other father has this crazy idea about Leap Day, that you should do everything out of the ordinary on Leap Day. So that’s what we’re doing. Although we’re still going to use the potty first, because, you know, there is a limit to how much craziness I’m willing to indulge.” 

Lucky yawned again. She rubbed her eyes this time for added emphasis. 

By the time Eames woke, Arthur had Lucky dressed in the most ridiculous, Eames-ian outfit he could find in her closet, all clashing patterns topped off with an enormous pink tutu. Lucky was delighted by it. Arthur, whisking eggs for an omelet, was watching her set up her train tracks through the kitchen and twirl periodically when Eames walked in, clad only in the boxers he’d slept in. He looked sleepy and delicious and confused. 

“What’s this?” he asked, looking from Arthur to Lucky, because their mornings didn’t go like this. Arthur went for a run while the house was still silent and sleepy, and usually came home to Eames getting the day underway in the kitchen. 

“Eamesie!” exclaimed Lucky, and twirled again. Arthur had tied a purple-and-green polka-dotted sash around her waist, and it fluttered in her wake. “Pretty!”

“Gorgeous,” Eames agreed, “but you always are.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and walked over to Arthur, still looking bewildered. “What’s up with you?” 

“Want an omelet?” Arthur asked, indicating the skillet where the butter was sizzling. 

“Yes,” Eames said slowly, glancing at it. 

“Do you know what today is?” 

“Not my birthday,” Eames said. “Or is it, and I’ve forgotten?” 

Arthur grinned and poured his whisked eggs into the skillet and then turned to Eames and tipped him toward him, hands on his hips, for a kiss that he kept deliberately slow and deep, the opposite of the casual peck he normally gave him as a good-morning kiss. 

“This is the best day ever,” Eames said into the kiss. 

Arthur smiled and nipped at Eames’s bottom lip and said, “It’s Leap Day. It’s a bonus day. You’re supposed to make the most of it. You’re supposed to do everything out of the ordinary.” 

Eames stopped kissing Arthur back. Eames went still and then leaned away from him and looked down at him, his eyes wide with wonder. 

Arthur felt a little embarrassed at how amazed Eames looked by him. “Happy Leap Day,” he said, and turned to his omelet. 

“Darling,” Eames said after a moment, and then rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. 

Arthur relaxed into the familiar comforting feel of Eames all against him, no longer feeling like he’d shocked him and thrown them off-balance. He smiled and tipped his head in Eames’s direction, a show of fondness, and focused on not burning the omelet. “I took the day off. I thought we’d take Lucky–attired in more ugly clothing than I thought we had ever bought her–”

“None of that is ugly. All of it is gorgeous. She loves it.” 

“You’re incepting her with your taste.” 

“I’m not incepting our daughter.” 

“You definitely are. You’re the best at inception. You worm your way into the brain–”

“Don’t do the intestinal worm thing. That’s a bad habit you picked up from Cobb.” 

Arthur laughed and slid the finished omelet onto a plate for Eames and handed it to him. “Anyway, I thought maybe we’d do an outing. What do you want to do? The sea? The aquarium? Sintra?”

“We’ll let Lucky choose,” said Eames. “Poppet!” he called for her, where they could both her singing her train song to the trains in the living room. “Come and decide what marvelously exciting thing your father and I are going to do with you today.” Eames settled at the table with the omelet and said from underneath his lashes, “That is, if I’m allowed to tag along.”

Arthur poured his own omelet into the skillet and said, “Of course you’re allowed to tag along. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I thought you’d made me work diligently and not sexually harass you.” 

“That never, ever worked,” said Arthur, and watched Eames slide some of his omelet onto a plate for Lucky. “Lucky!” Arthur called. “Come and eat!” 

“Train song almost done, Arth!” she called back, sounding exasperated over how demanding he was. 

“Do not interrupt the train song, darling,” said Eames, eating his omelet, “we want an out-of-the-ordinary day, but not that out-of-the-ordinary.” 

“Thank you,” Arthur said, and kissed the side of Eames’s neck. 

“You’re very welcome, I’m sure. But what are you thanking me for?” 

“Being you,” Arthur said. “Here with me. And her. Even though I don’t do this for the two of you every morning.” 

“It’s true,” Eames said, shifting to coax Arthur onto his lap. “I’m long-suffering. It’s a good thing you give good head or you’d have no redeeming qualities at all.” 

“I mean it,” Arthur said, because he did, and he so seldom made Eames be serious about this. 

Eames looked at him and said, “Alright. I’ll be out of the ordinary, then, and say, very, very seriously, that you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met and every morning I can’t believe I get to wake up next to you and every night I can’t believe I get to go to sleep next to you and every day I can’t believe I get to raise her with you and share my life with you and I have never stopped wondering why I’m the one you stopped running from and started trusting.” 

Arthur stared at him and tried to think of what to say to that. Eventually he settled on, “You idiot, don’t wonder, it’s because you’re you, I’ve always trusted you, I always loved you.”

Eames smiled and said, “Happy Leap Day, love.” 

Lucky said, “Smoke.” 

Arthur said, “Fuck,” and almost fell off Eames’s lap in his haste to deal with his burning omelet.


End file.
